


Girl Crush

by SeeBeeStrellacott



Series: Oh, The Angst [3]
Category: Cormoran Strike Series - Robert Galbraith
Genre: Angst, Book: Lethal White (Cormoran Strike), Canon Compliant, Emotional Roller Coaster, F/M, Inspired by Music, Jealous Robin Ellacott, Musical References, Pining, Post-Wedding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:34:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26343463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeeBeeStrellacott/pseuds/SeeBeeStrellacott
Summary: Robin reflects after calling Strike while on her honeymoon.
Relationships: Robin Ellacott/Cormoran Strike
Series: Oh, The Angst [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1860244
Comments: 6
Kudos: 32
Collections: Musical Musings - Cormoran Strike Fic Exchange





	Girl Crush

**Author's Note:**

> This is part of my series, Oh The Angst, where I explore the thoughts and feelings of various characters during certain scenes from the books. All are canon compliant, no re-writes. Most, if not all, are also inspired by music.
> 
> If you have a scene, character, or song you would like me to explore, leave it in the comments or on my Tumblr, @seebee239.
> 
> You can find the song inspiration for this work [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JYZMT8otKdI).

From Chapter 3 of Lethal White:

_But on the seventh night, with Matthew back at the villa, she had decided to call Strike. Almost without acknowledging it to herself, she had formulated a plan. There was a landline at the bar and she knew the office number off by heart. It would be diverted to Strike’s mobile automatically. What she was going to say when she reached him, she didn’t know, but she was sure that if she heard him speak, the truth about her feelings would be revealed to her. As the phone rang in distant London, Robin’s mouth had become dry._

_The phone was answered, but nobody spoke for a few seconds. Robin listened to the sounds of movement, then heard a giggle, and then at last somebody spoke._

_“Hello? This is Cormy-Warmy –“ ..._

_Robin had slammed the receiver back onto its rest. Sweat had broken out on her face and chest: she felt ashamed, foolish, humiliated. He was with another woman..._

_The sound of the woman on the phone had affected her like a hard slap. If Strike could have taken somebody to bed so soon after their hug – and she would have staked her life on the fact that the girl, whoever she was, had either just slept with Strike, or was about to – then he wasn’t sitting in London torturing himself about his true feelings for Robin Ellacott._

* * *

> I want to taste her lips
> 
> Yeah, ‘cause they taste like you
> 
> I want to drown myself
> 
> In a bottle of her perfume
> 
> I want her long blonde hair
> 
> I want her magic touch
> 
> Yeah, ‘cause maybe then
> 
> You’d want me just as much
> 
> . . . 
> 
> I don’t get no sleep
> 
> I don’t get no peace
> 
> Thinking about her
> 
> Under your bed sheets
> 
> The way that she’s whispering
> 
> The way that she’s pulling you in
> 
> Lord knows I’ve tried,
> 
> I can’t get her off my mind
> 
> . . . 
> 
> I got a girl crush

Robin felt ill, physically ill. Nothing she had ever experienced, not even Matthew’s betrayals hurt as bad as hearing the unmistakably intimate quality of the woman’s voice on the phone.

Robin couldn’t believe it. She felt detached from reality, as if it were all some horrible nightmare. Worst of all was the knowledge that she had no right to expect anything different. She was on her _honeymoon_ , with her new _husband_. Could she really blame him?

Still, how could he fall so easily into bed with another woman? _Another woman…_ Robin laughed at herself derisively. As if she herself had ever been his woman. 

She hadn’t acknowledged it to herself, and now didn’t _want_ to acknowledge it, but Robin had truly believed that when Strike’s phone had been answered, both of their feelings would be revealed. She had allowed herself to hope, to assume, that he had been just as tormented by their goodbye as she had been. Without fully realizing it, she had been certain that he would be waiting for her call, that the words she longed to hear would tumble from his lips. 

She had thought she would tell him that she was coming home and getting an annulment or divorce. She had imagined him meeting her at the airport. She would run to him, and he would wrap her in a tight embrace, lifting her and spinning her in a circle. He would lean down, smiling, and kiss her. She would throw her arms around his neck and kiss him back. He would take her back to his flat, not the home she shared with Matthew. They would have a drink and talk about how he caught Laing. She would feel the softness of his sheets against her skin.

But now, Robin couldn’t stop picturing the undoubtedly beautiful creature lying next to her partner, in the place that should have been hers. In her mind, the woman’s hair switched back and forth from dark to light, as the only women Robin had ever known him to be with were either brunette or blonde. Robin picked at a lock of her own hair and cursed its unusual shade. 

_Is that the problem?_ she thought. _I’m not your type physically? How did she pull you in? Why was it so easy for her?_

Robin agonized over these questions again and again. She couldn’t get the sound of the woman’s voice out of her head. She couldn’t stop picturing the tangle of limbs – one partial limb – under the sheets she would never get to feel. Robin’s face flushed as she imagined Strike in bed. He was so surly and grumpy, but did he have a softer side? _Is he tender with her?_ she wondered. _Would he be tender with me?_

It was hard to imagine her rugged, manly boss being gentle and intimate. But then her mind drifted, as it had so often the last few days, back to the hug on the stairs. The way he had held her… His cheek against hers, his nose in her hair, his arms tightening around her… The moment had felt so _right_. How could she have been so wrong? Had she imagined his feelings? Had she imagined the way he had smelled her hair?

What must it feel like to be held by him, alone in a darkened room, as a woman, a woman he wanted? What must it feel like to be touched and caressed by him? A heat spread over her chest as Robin imagined him hovering over her, moving with her. Was he an attentive lover? Robin closed her eyes and pictured his full lips. Would they feel soft against hers? Firm? Was he a good kisser?

A single tear slid down Robin’s cheek as she realized that she would never know. She had gotten married, and he _didn’t_ want her. That was made abundantly clear to her now. If he had wanted her, would he have fallen into bed with a woman he had probably just met? Would he have let her marry Matthew, a man she knew he disliked?

Robin avoided the main question, the most important question, the question she couldn’t bring herself to ask. _Why don’t you want me?_

Instead, she focused on the image of the mystery woman that was taking shape inside her mind. What lips would he kiss? What fragrance would he smell? What skin would he touch? The result was the most beautiful woman Robin had ever seen. She could understand why Strike would be captivated by her, how he could so easily forget any feelings he might have been harboring for his partner.

Robin allowed herself to dwell on these images for a time. She allowed herself to grieve for what she had lost, and for what she had never had. She promised herself that when her mourning period was over, she would never think of it again. She would return to work as his partner and friend, and nothing more. She would not be jealous or resentful of the woman in his bed, the woman that knew him in ways Robin never would.

But most importantly, Robin would never allow herself to imagine what it would be like to be _his_.


End file.
